Is that your final answer? That's my final answer. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz! Huh? But, I thought. I could've sworn. I...Yi, Yiiiiii. I.
I have resolved to move. I need to move. I need to move out of Georgia. I need to go. I'm tired. I have worked here, I have struggled here. I have fought here...I am tired.
I had decided that I would move to Boston. I don't want to move to Boston just yet. I am trying to launch a writing career. I will make my way up the east coast, but I don't want Boston to be my first stop. I need spiritual peace and quiet. I need to still my entire being, my soul.
This morning when I awakened,. The buzzer sounded loud in my head. I thought I had changed my mind.
The buzzer consists of lack of confidence, guilt, low self esteem. Should I buy a new outfit? Bzz. Should I go to the hairdresser? Bzz. Should I take a class. Bzz. Wrong answer. BZZZZZZZZ!
I envision myself with my hobo pack on my back...hanging on a stick. My belongings tied in a blue or red dotted handkerchief. My left hand steadying the stick on my shoulder, while the right holds my young son's hand. We melt into a beautiful sunset and the credits roll. But this is just part one of numerous episodes of my life.
I have to leave this place. I have to leave this place, not because of this place, but because of me.
Sifting through my emotions is grueling. This is not a good time to leave because, Brave Old Soldier is sick. This is not a good time to leave. But, I am emotionally and spiritually bankrupt and I need to replenish who I am. Otherwise, I will not be able to build my son up to be who he is. Or, take care of The Brave Old Soldier when the time comes.
It is our spirit and emotion along with our intellect that makes us who we are. We can operate independently of either emotion or intellect, but not our spirit. Although, our spirit can function independently of us. (Some would argue that this is not true. Let 'em argue).
It is essential that I leave the place, to preserve what is left of me, my war torn soul.
Sometimes, I imagine that I feel like a soldier preparing to return home from battle.
I have resolved to move. I need to move. I need to move out of Georgia. I need to go. I'm tired. I have worked here, I have struggled here. I have fought here...I am tired.
I had decided that I would move to Boston. I don't want to move to Boston just yet. I am trying to launch a writing career. I will make my way up the east coast, but I don't want Boston to be my first stop. I need spiritual peace and quiet. I need to still my entire being, my soul.
This morning when I awakened,. The buzzer sounded loud in my head. I thought I had changed my mind.
The buzzer consists of lack of confidence, guilt, low self esteem. Should I buy a new outfit? Bzz. Should I go to the hairdresser? Bzz. Should I take a class. Bzz. Wrong answer. BZZZZZZZZ!
I envision myself with my hobo pack on my back...hanging on a stick. My belongings tied in a blue or red dotted handkerchief. My left hand steadying the stick on my shoulder, while the right holds my young son's hand. We melt into a beautiful sunset and the credits roll. But this is just part one of numerous episodes of my life.
I have to leave this place. I have to leave this place, not because of this place, but because of me.
Sifting through my emotions is grueling. This is not a good time to leave because, Brave Old Soldier is sick. This is not a good time to leave. But, I am emotionally and spiritually bankrupt and I need to replenish who I am. Otherwise, I will not be able to build my son up to be who he is. Or, take care of The Brave Old Soldier when the time comes.
It is our spirit and emotion along with our intellect that makes us who we are. We can operate independently of either emotion or intellect, but not our spirit. Although, our spirit can function independently of us. (Some would argue that this is not true. Let 'em argue).
It is essential that I leave the place, to preserve what is left of me, my war torn soul.
Sometimes, I imagine that I feel like a soldier preparing to return home from battle.
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